I used to destroy the world with my mind. The flies in the air would ignite and burst into flames when I waved my hand, embers to the wind. Unsuspecting cars at the far end of the street would explode upon the impact of my smooth missiles. Everything would burn. Now, as a young man, I realize that I have always been a villain, a tormented tormentor. Perhaps this evil broods in my blood, coded in my genes, sleeping, and using me to fulfill nasty dreams. A cursed friend of mine once told me, “…the really good villains don’t know that they are the villain.” He tilted his head back, letting his dark hair fall, and out of his thick cheeks, laughed a maniacal laugh. Every villain I had ever known came to mind, except the one that I had become. “Aren’t I a hero?” I thought. “ Wasn't it me that was born to save the world?” I had been wrong all of these years. My family raised me to be a hero, to be strong, educated, witty, and responsible. I was water being taught by flames. They too were villains waiting. Every eye was on me, watching for the next move, slowly creeping down my neck, breathing on my shoulders, heating the waters. Now it is my eyes that watch the family of fire. I play dumb when they need smarts; I pretend to be smart when they feel dumb - tricky, tricky, little me. I deny love. It comes close, softly, sweet, and warmly, and I slash at it with cold claws. It’s sadness I want. Sadness is all I have ever known. Above me, clouds turn gray and heavy; they become fat and thick, and pour shadows from the sky. I enjoy the rain. I am the rain; the pretend tears on every soft face. I laugh alone, and when I do, there is no depth, no reason, only hallow noise, empty harmonics. I am comedy. Every tragedy, every sorrow, every pity that ever was, I am. I used to destroy the world; they gray sludge. My fat feet would drag heavily along the concrete until I began to sink into it, and soon there would be no difference between me and the street. I tread upon, only to be tread upon. Black chewing gum asleep on my skin, I snatch at every shadow, cracking, hoping you fall in (the only hope I have). So profound am I! Every friend I ever had; I fooled. They assumed me to be just like them – friendly. Nope! I am a villain! Each one, softer than the next, came to me and spoke, brought a personal pain, or aspiration; I listened with a blackened heart, and slowly chipped away their dreams into misfortune – my favorite fortune. Jealously is not a word, it is a lifestyle! My yellow teeth clatter rivalry. Terrible fingernails grow out of my dead hands at the sight of competition. Every curl upon my head stews in greasy tantrums when someone, or something, has more than me. I want it all - everything. I want to run the hot waters dry. I want the desert to erupt in blistering heat, and here, I want all to feast on each others insanity; ripping the flesh from each others forms, wasting life; the precious gift. Fear is my Mother. Fear is my Father. Turmoil; my great siblings! Behold! We shall rule the day! We will tell the Sun when to shine. We will drag the moon from her great post, stomp upon her, and spoil her until she glows a most pathetic glow. We will eat the stars. We will break the planets. We will finally know the black truth, and we will exploit it; bend it! It will become a lie, selfishly, a lie. Until all we know is the truth of it all, of everything. Every book will be read, and burned. Each tree will be carefully grown, and accosted into flames. We will eat the animals’ flesh and bones. We will let the carrots of the ground and apples of the vine rot; the tired meat will sleep. Yes, the world is ours to destroy. My brothers and sisters, we are the great deities of destruction, the deciders of death. Every life depends on the death, as every death depends on life. I swim in this dependence freely and gaily, in gratitude for the grand opportunity to condemn myself and another. These are my steamy waters, the saunas of shame. Today, I sucked on a cigarette, and glanced at the growths around me; trees, bushes, grass, and crops. I blew my smoke into the air with a great wind and pondered quietly, tossing a bone across the yard for the dog to catch. My brown cap kept the Sun out of my eyes, and I trotted back to the yellow limestone house. I sat on the concrete steps and drew the last of the red burning tobacco in. My Father and his girlfriend sat behind me, and reminisced about the past; about smoking cigarettes. I gazed over to the black railing guarding the stairs, and upon it, a grasshopper breathed carefully. Clinging vertically to the rail, he adjusted his tiny body and took a few slow steps downward. Not making a sound, he moved slowly, abruptly stopping from time to time. I examined his bent legs, his green color, his furry butt, and his tiny, black, beady eyes. “I used to destroy the world…” I thought.